by Alina Jacobs
Wes thought he might be able to fuck Liz that night, and he buzzed with anticipation. He could envision it; he would bring her back to his apartment, slowly undress her, and watch her come undone. Damn Rhonda for putting the idea in his head.
You can't move too fast, he warned himself. The last meeting ended, and he shook hands, impatient for his date with Liz.
After going back to his apartment and changing his clothes, he took Kal for a run then debated about what he would wear. A suit? Too formal. He didn't want a business meeting. He settled on a white shirt and black blazer.
As he dressed, Rhonda's words echoed in his brain, whipping his libido into a frenzy. Buried deep inside her. That's what he wanted. But Rhonda was wrong on one count—he would not be thinking of Liz as good wife material.
He could separate his plan for revenge from his attraction to Liz. He wouldn't lose control. That thought made him wonder what she looked like when she lost control. He hoped she was wearing something she didn't mind having ripped off.
Liz didn't disappoint. She was wearing a mostly white dress. He could make out the outline of the skimpy panties she wore under it, and she had on a fur wrap.
"It's fake," she told him. "Don't worry."
Was that a sign that she knew he was toying with her? Was she onto him? He tried not to act nervous.
"I don't want you to think I hate animals," she continued.
He relaxed slightly. "I thought you weren't supposed to wear white after Labor Day."
"The dress has some black on it!" she said.
"And some black under it," he told her, tracing the outline of the panties. They were lace—he could tell under his fingertips.
Liz's eyes widened. "It's see-through? I should go change."
"No, just a hint. It's sexy. I like it."
Liz wrinkled her nose. "I didn't know you could see through that much. The dress is lined."
"The only way you can really see it," Wes said, "is if a guy has his face right up against you. And if he's that close, then we're going to have a bigger problem than your see-through dress."
27
Liz
Liz sat next to Wes in the town car. His hand, casually draped over her shoulder, traced patterns along her collar bone, which made Liz feel delicious.
She felt her phone vibrate in her clutch.
It was a text from Brayden.
It was good to see you
We should go have drinks
Liz ignored it. She did not need that in her life. She already had a perfect man.
"Who was that?" Wes asked.
"Just work," she said, turning the phone on silent. Turning toward him in the dark, she traced the outline of his collar. He was wearing black slacks and a jacket with one button and no tie. He looked stylish but still powerful.
She kissed his jaw. She loved the strength of it, the dimple in his cheek when he smiled. It was another characteristic he shared with the rest of the Holbrooks. He smelled so good—she wanted to inhale the scent of his aftershave mingled with the smell of pheromones or whatever it was. Liz hadn't paid attention in college chemistry. That was' why she went to business school.
The restaurant was fancy, as was expected. The hostess took her fur wrap, and she leaned on Wes's arm as they followed the hostess to the table.
"Order whatever you want," Wes said. "I can give you a real workout tonight to make up for it."
Liz took a gulp of wine.
The food was light, and the sommelier kept them supplied with wine.
"You're so mysterious," Liz said to him. "I want to know all your secrets."
Wes smiled almost bitterly, then he moved his chair to sit right next to her. The feel of him was electric. "You know all my secrets," he said. "Tell me about yours."
"Well…" she began. Don't tell him about the scrapbooks. "There's this handsome new man in my life."
"Oh yeah? What's he like? Anyone I know?"
"Oh, no," Liz said. "He doesn't run in your circles."
"He' doesn't sound respectable," Wes said.
"We work together."
"I don't want to talk about work," Wes interjected. He stared at her intently, like he could just eat her up.
She switched topics and started to babble about Brandy and how awful she was. Hoping to make Wes laugh, she told him in detail what happened at Brandy's wedding last year and the fallout with Carter and Allie. He stared at her while she talked. She had never been the target of such intensity, and it was a heady feeling.
"That sounds insane," Wes said. "I feel like my life is boring compared to yours."
"You're just hearing the highlights," Liz said. "A lot of my life is sitting perfectly silent in a restaurant while the only friend I haven't seemed to alienate takes pictures of her food." That earned her a chuckle.
As Wes poured her more wine, Liz said, "Maybe I can make your life a little more interesting."
"I don't know if I can handle that," he told her, taking her hand. "I still have responsibilities. I can't spend my time dating crazy women and going to weddings."
"You're such a business man," she said. "It's like Sex and the City or something." She let her fingers run over the huge watch on his wrist.
"Do you like it?" he asked.
"It's a Patek Phillip Celestial. Of course I like it. Walter Holbrook collects Patek watches, you know." Wes scowled and jerked his hand away. She shouldn't have brought up his biological father. She was so stupid, and now she had ruined the evening. "I'm just wondering," she said, taking his hand, hoping to salvage the evening, "if a man takes off a watch like this before he brings a woman into his bed. It's such an expensive watch. It would be a shame for it to be damaged."
A slow smile spread on Wes's face. She could feel the desire radiating off him. Good. She needed to make him forget about his family problems and focus only on her.
"No cufflinks," she said, inspecting his wrist. "How casual."
"Cufflinks are difficult to remove," he replied. "Especially if you're in a hurry."
When they left the restaurant, Wes put the wrap around Liz's shoulders, and she leaned against him while they waited for the car to pull up.
Liz wanted Wes to relax. She made circles with her fingers on the back of his neck once they were seated in the car. He closed his eyes and leaned back against her hand. Then as the car pulled away, Wes pushed her back against the seat.
She felt his hand sneak up her leg under her dress.
"You look amazing in that dress," he whispered in the dark. "You know, I wonder what your pussy tastes like."
It felt like Wes would consume her in his desire. Liz had been flirting all night, but now Wes meant business. She moaned and spread her legs as his fingers pushed under her panties. Alarm bells went off in her head. They were in a car with a driver. She was not doing this in front of him.
She pushed at Wes. He didn't respond for a second, so she pushed harder and said, "Stop."
His eyes were almost black, dilated with desire. "Sorry," he said and kissed her one last time, then he licked his fingers.
"That's gross," she said.
"Gross? It's dessert. Delicious."
"You're like a porn star," she said, adjusting her dress.
They pulled up in front of her building. Wes leaned over her, his lips barely touching her mouth.
"So, does this mean I'm not invited up?"
"I don't think so," she said.
"Too bad," he told her. "I could really have made this your night."
"I have to work tomorrow."
"I'll walk you to the door," he said, helping her out of the car.
"You don't have to."
He kissed her, and when he released her, Liz saw that Osman was grinning broadly.
When she opened the door to her condo and kicked off her shoes, she had to make some herbal tea. She was so frazzled.
While the kettle was going, she ran her hands over the scrapbook pages. Wes was so much better in person. Liz knew she s
hould change out of her clothes. She needed a cold shower, she smelled like sex, but she didn't want to lose the last lingering connection she had to Wes.
Her phone buzzed and almost rattled off the counter when a message came in. She opened it.
You missed out
It was a picture of Wes, from the chin down. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and if she didn't know any better, she would say he wasn't wearing any pants or, gulp, underwear either, but the picture was strategically chopped. Liz felt wet between her legs, and it felt almost uncomfortable as she studied the picture.
"You should have slept with him," she scolded herself. She bet it would have been amazing. Life changing even.
28
Wes
Head pounding, Wes returned to his apartment.
Liz didn't show up at the gym the next day, and he also didn't see her in the office when he went to meet with Grant.
"I had food ordered in," Grant said. Wes hadn't eaten anything that day, but all he really wanted was Liz. "She's not here," Grant said. "I made sure she wouldn't be in the building when you were." His half-brother smirked. "I know exactly how you think. We are brothers after all."
"I don't suppose you know of any more of us secret Holbrooks running around?" Wes asked.
Grant hesitated for a moment. It was the same expression Wes knew he wore when he was trying to hide something. Dana could always tell from his face, and he could almost feel Grant mirroring it.
Rhonda had wanted him to dredge up family secrets, and it seemed like he'd found one.
"Do you know who they are?" Wes asked.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Grant said, stabbing a piece of sausage in his breakfast bowl.
"Interesting."
"I don't trust you," Grant said to Wes.
"Yeah, I'm sure it's hard to trust the person you just stabbed in the back. Might make you wonder if they would do the same to you." Now he was heading into dangerous territory. Grant wasn't an idiot. "Look," Wes said, trying to deflect any suspicion. "All I want is a smooth transition. My employees are scared. I'm not above putting my ego aside for the greater good. The question is, are you?"
Grant took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. He contemplated Wes.
Project trustworthiness, Wes said to himself. He thought of Liz and how she looked at him like he was the hero sent to rescue the princess. He beat that thought down. Best not to think of how you're going to betray her.
"Fine," Grant said. "In the spirit of the greater good, we're having a gathering at the Holbrook estate next weekend."
"A gathering?" Wes asked. "Is it some sort of cult?"
"It's not a cult, just family. You are invited."
"I'll be there," Wes said.
"You can even…" He could see the tendon working in Grant's jaw. "If you want, you can bring Liz."
Wes smiled. "I think she would like that very much."
As soon as the meeting was over and he was heading across town to the Svensson Investment building, he texted Liz.
I think I've won over Grant.
She sent a high five emoji followed by a text.
Wow you really are magic
Wanting her, Wes texted:
Meet me tonight and I'll show you
He waited a beat. Was it too forward? She didn't really like that he had been so forceful in the car even though she had been flirting heavily with him in the restaurant.
His phone buzzed with her reply.
Sure
Sure? What did that even mean?
He could barely sit still in the Svensson meeting.
"Hot date tonight?" Brayden asked after the meeting adjourned.
"Something like that," Wes said, hurrying out of the conference room.
After walking Kal, he could only think about Liz. He didn't want another date. He only wanted one thing. He looked at the camera on the kitchen counter, then he picked it up and hid it in the box of robot parts. Videotaping someone without their consent was definitely illegal. Rhonda could shove it.
He fiddled with his phone. He was tired of texting, and it was the end of the day. She was probably already home. He was going to surprise her, and hopefully, she would think it was a nice surprise.
Osman looked at him threateningly when he showed up in front of Liz's building.
"Liz is expecting me," Wes said.
"You better have good intentions," Osman said, not opening the door. "Liz is a wonderful young woman. I know all about men like you—too much money, no sense. Don't you dare hurt her!" The small dark-skinned man stood firmly in front of the door. He barely even came up to Wes's chest.
Wes felt a twinge of guilt. Then he thought of his employees' scared faces from the meeting.
He smiled his best smile and laid on the charm. "I assure you I only have the most honorable intentions. Liz is very special to me."
That seemed to satisfy Osman. "I have my eye on you," he said in one final warning as Wes stepped into the elevator.
Wes took the elevator up to her apartment. He should have texted first, he supposed. In hindsight, she probably wouldn't want him to just show up.
"Better do it now," he said to himself as he stood outside her door, leaning against it.
Can I see you?
He heard her phone beep from the hallway. He made a mental note not to fuck her near the front door. People might hear. He smirked to himself.
She replied with a thumbs-up emoji.
Wes pressed his ear against the door. He heard water running. He typed into his phone.
Are you free now?
He could hear her phone clicking as she typed out the message that appeared silently on his phone a second later.
I should shower and change
He grinned.
I'm going to take off all your clothes and make you sweaty, so I wouldn't bother.
"Oh my," he heard her say through the door. He tried to stifle a laugh.
An old woman walking in the hallway scowled at him. "Who are you?" she asked loudly. "Do you even live here?"
"I'm here visiting," Wes said softly.
"What? I can't hear you. I don't know why you young people can't speak up." The elderly woman was practically screaming now.
He heard Liz's door unlock, and she swung the door open. He jumped away to keep from falling inside.
"Wes!" Liz said.
"See," Wes said to the old woman. "I'm visiting."
"Does your mother know you have strange men showing up at your apartment?" the old woman asked Liz.
"Sorry, Mrs. Burbank."
"I'm not a strange man. I'm a Holbrook," Wes said. "I'm a billionaire, the most eligible bachelor in New York City."
Liz pulled him inside and called, "Thank you, Mrs. Burbank. I'll tell my mom you said hello." Then she slammed the door.
"Surprise," he said.
"I can't believe this!" she said clutching her head in exasperation. "What are you doing here? My parents are going to find out! Mrs. Burbank can't keep a secret. She's going to tell Finn's mother, then she's going to tell my mother."
"You don't want to tell your mother you're the girlfriend of a billionaire?"
"I mean I do—"
"What's that?" he asked. She had a piece of ribbon attached to her hair.
"Oh, I—" She looked around wildly. Wes sauntered past her to look at the papers and crafting materials spread out on the table.
"What the hell?" There were pages and pages of carefully detailed scrapbooks, all featuring his picture. The word marriage was scrawled over every page. There were flowers cutouts, various wedding symbols, gold foil, ribbons, and lace. One page had the picture he'd sent her last night—the carefully framed one in which he wasn't wearing any clothes.
"This is so embarrassing," she moaned, slumping down in a chair. "Why didn't you call?"
Wes couldn't help but grin. "You know, when I asked you last night if you had any secrets, this would have been something to share, Liz."
She let her head sink into her hands. "This is so embarrassing! I look like a stalker."
"No," Wes said, pulling her chin up and kissing her. "You look like someone who needs to get laid."
29
Liz
Liz gasped as Wes picked her up from the chair and wrapped her legs around his waist, putting them both on the couch. When she'd returned home from work, she'd changed out of her work clothes and into a long spaghetti-strap T-shirt dress so she could scrapbook.
She hadn't expected Wes to jump off the page and appear in her doorway like that. She moaned as he rubbed a hand between her legs. Excitement thrummed through her. It had been how long since a man had touched her like this? Liz couldn't concentrate. She would need her spreadsheet to figure it out.
"Let me show you what I wanted to do last night," Wes said. His voice was deep and gravelly.
He flipped her around on his lap, letting her legs splay over him. His other hand cupped one of her breasts and pulled it out of the low-cut T-shirt dress. "I love your tits," he said, bringing his mouth down and gently taking her hard nipple between his teeth.
"I want," Liz gasped.
"What was that?" he asked. She wished she hadn't said a word because she wanted his mouth back. "I didn't quite catch that," he breathed. One hand between her legs, he slowly worked his fingers under her panties. The circular motions spread the silky wetness around.
"I want your cock," she gasped out. "I want you to fuck me."
"You do? Well, there's a process for these things, you know," he said.
She could tell he was aroused. She could feel him through her dress, his erection pressing into the back of her thigh, and she could hear his arousal in the slightly ragged edge his words had.
"You know, it's actually lucky for you that I'm a well-bred Holbrook," he told her, his voice mild as his fingers worked inside her, sending shimmery sensations pulsing over her. "If I were more of the blue-collar type, I would be burying my rock-hard cock so deep inside your tight, wet pussy your pretty little head would detonate." His fingers found her clit. "You like that don't you?" he purred.
