He kissed her neck, her shoulder, then the deep V of her dress, marking the curves of her breasts with lips and tongue and beard. She’d never been more alive. More hopeful. She wanted to share the world with this man and believed he craved the same thing. Maybe not on the surface, but deep down. Deep, deep down. Almost within reach.
“I want to do everything to you.” He thrust hard. Over and over, each undulation growing in force.
“Yes.” She gasped around her gag. “More.”
She was close, already. He had a way of knowing her. Of sensing where to touch. Where to focus.
He grazed her nipples through her dress. The first time was too light, the second too hard. The third and every time after was utter perfection. He was Goldilocks. Testing everything. Finding the right fit. He even had the hair to prove it.
“What are you smiling at?” His nose brushed hers.
She couldn’t explain, even if she was physically able.
“I love your smile.” He nuzzled her cheek, his beard leaving its mark. “Prettiest damn thing I’ve ever seen.”
Her grin vanished, pure shock taking its place. Oh, God. Her heart stopped. It didn’t start again—just remained idle as his mouth trekked her mouth, finally coming to rest on the corner of her lips.
“What?” He pulled back. “What is it? Have I done something wrong?”
He kept compounding her awe. Kept showing a side of himself even more alluring than what she’d already fallen for.
He froze, those sexy undulations ceasing to exist. “Ella?”
She worked the scarf from her mouth, no longer caring if she drew a crowd because she couldn’t go a moment longer without his kiss. “You’ve done everything right.”
She shoved a hand through his hair and dragged his face to hers, stealing his lips. Their connection ignited, the mix of tongues and teeth and renewed thrusts building to a crazy intensity that had every inch of her in love with every inch of him.
He kissed her as hard as his cock fucked her. He worshipped her just as sweetly, too. His touch was a fine contrast to all the slamming body parts.
“You’re going to make me come.” She spoke into his mouth, pulling his hair.
“I fucking hope so.”
Her pussy contracted around his length, tiny spasms quickly building to impending bliss. “Bryan…”
“I got you.”
He did. He really did.
She came undone, the whimpered noises building in her throat, only to be smothered by his mouth. He continued to kiss her. To love her like nobody had ever loved her.
“Shit.” His fingers dug into her ass, marking flesh she never wanted to heal. He pistoned his hips, extending her orgasm as he came, thrust after torturous thrust.
He bit and sucked and licked. Bucked and caressed and squeezed.
Her world became one mass of tingling sensation. Then just as quickly, it faded.
Starbursts turned into twinkles. Pulses lessened to twinges. She pulled back, panting into the night air while his rhythm lessened to a slow dance.
She slumped against his shoulder, his scent filling her lungs, his sweat coating her cheek.
One moment, bliss conquered. The next, the hard weight of reality made her numb. She hadn’t merely fallen a few steps for this man—she’d toppled down a slope the size of Everest.
“Ella,” he whispered into her neck, a hint of regret tinging his voice.
She closed her eyes, not wanting to know the harshness inevitably due to follow all the sexy sweetness she’d received. “Mmm?”
“I’m sorry this had to end.”
Her heart swelled as she worked the tight silk from around her neck. “Had to end? What do you mean?”
He spoke in past tense, like this was already over. As if it had been a foregone conclusion that they would share a monumentally deep connection, then wave each other goodbye.
He settled her on her feet and stepped back, frowning. “You knew this was the end, right?”
Her eyes seared, threatening to betray her.
“Ella?” His voice turned into a warning. “You knew this game was over once we fucked.”
She blinked and blinked, trying to hide her cluelessness while he righted his clothing.
“I told you from the start. I tell everyone from the start.”
“Yeah.” She swallowed. Licked her lips. “I knew. I just…” She tugged down the hem of her dress and snatched her clutch from the top of the car. “I didn’t—” She clamped her mouth shut and inched away, taking close, cautious steps.
“Wait.” He reached out and the connection of his hand missed its mark. “I thought you understood. You spoke about this not ending well. I made sure you wanted to finish this here. Now. I asked you, Ella. I thought we were both on the same page.”
She hadn’t even been in the same book.
She’d momentarily forgotten his rules and regulations, too blinded by the dreamy thoughts of what could be. She’d made herself believe that something special was a possibility. Just like she had with Lucas.
“We were,” she lied with a jerky nod. “We are.”
“Then why are you looking at me like…”
Don’t say it. Please don’t say it.
“Why are you backing away from me?” he amended.
“Because that’s what you want.” She stopped, commanding her feet to remain in place even though she itched to kick off her heels and sprint. “I’m giving you space. I know how much you hate clingy women.”
He winced, and for the briefest second she expected him to tell her to come back into his arms.
Yet again, she was wrong.
Why did she keep getting this so wrong? She pinned her hopes on love when it was nowhere in sight. She continued to fall for men who had no intention of falling for her.
“Did you expect this to turn into something more?” His jaw tensed as his hands stabbed through his hair. “I can’t fucking read you.”
“No,” she lied and scrambled to come up with solid reasoning. “I just didn’t think you’d be fucking me one minute and kicking me to the curb the next.” She backtracked, each step bringing more necessary space. “But I get it. You made your position clear. And I certainly don’t want to be classified as one of your groupies.”
“Fuck.” His curse rang through every inch of the parking lot, startling her. “Just stop.” His hands fell to his sides. “I don’t want you to be pissed at me.”
“Why does it matter?” Her question held too much heartache, the weakness ringing in her ears. “You know I want to cancel my Vault membership. After tonight, you’ll never see me again. So, who gives a shit if I’m pissed?”
He clenched his teeth. “I do, okay? I want you back at the club. I want to help you find someone.”
“No, thank you.” Not when she wanted that someone to be him. “Your help tonight was enough.”
He stepped toward her and froze when the crunch of plastic sounded under his sole. “Shit.” He crouched to pick up his wallet and the scattered credit cards. “Look, Ella, I’ve got a truckload of bullshit on my shoulders. My family is fucked. The guys at work are on my back about the argument we had at the club…”
“And the last thing you need is what? Me causing you problems?” When had she become a liability instead of an asset for his demonstration?
His lips parted, but an answer hovered out of reach. Everything hovered out of reach. If only she had the heart to stretch a little further. To find the perfect words to make him realize. To do something, anything, to make him wake up and see the possibilities right in front of him.
“You’re a great guy, Bryan,” she whispered. “But I deserve better than this.”
He scoffed, his hand paused on a dirty business card, his hair framing his gorgeous face. He didn’t look at her. Didn’t move. “Ain’t that the truth.” His voice was barely audible, the softness far more punishing than if he’d growled at her.
He sat back on his haunches, those brilliant ey
es hitting her with feigned sincerity. “What a fucking mess, right?”
She slowly nodded through the disbelief. “Yeah…”
What else could she say? She wasn’t going to stand here and argue with him while her heart slowly bled out. “I’m going to catch a cab.” A chill took over her skin, sinking deeper to penetrate bone. She wanted to hate him and couldn’t. Wanted to stop adoring him and failed at that, too.
“Wait.” He rushed to pick up more of his scattered belongings. “Let me get all this shit first and we can leave together.” He snatched at the coins, notes, and credit cards strewn across the asphalt. “Give me a second.”
“No. You want this to end now. At least let me have the dignity of walking away.”
“You can, after I get you home safely.”
The concern was a weighty sucker-punch. He cared about her, but not enough to ditch his stupid rules. “I’ve been single a long time. I’m sure I’ll be fine on my own.”
“Ella.”
The word tore her apart—her skin, her ribs, her heart. She gave him one last look, taking in all the severity framed by pure gorgeousness and turned on her heels. “I’ve told you before, that’s not my name.”
Chapter Fifteen
Bryan kept his attention on his computer as Shay came to stand inside the doorway of the Shot of Sin office. Her presence was never a good thing. Not lately, anyway.
“We’re ready for the management meeting. When are you coming down?”
“I’m skipping it.” He didn’t raise his focus. “Take notes for me.”
“You already missed last week’s meeting. And the one before that.”
He slid his palm over the pen laying on the table, his fingers clutching the flimsy plastic in a death grip. “And if I want, I’ll miss the next one, too. You know you don’t need me to participate.”
“Brute…” She approached his desk.
“Shay, I’m not in the mood.”
“You know they’re only going to bring the meeting up here if you don’t get your ass downstairs.”
His friends must have reached the threshold of his bullshit. About time, too. He’d expected them to cave more than a week ago, and he still hadn’t been able to pull himself out of the spiral of bad behavior.
“Was that your brilliant idea?” He pinched the bridge of his nose, already knowing the answer.
“You know I’m always trying to figure out how to get more Brute time.”
He sighed and rested back in the chair. He’d been ignoring everyone for weeks, successfully keeping enough distance to avoid their nagging eyes. “I’ll be down there in a minute.”
“Good.” She boasted her victory with a slight quirk of her lips. “You still doing okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Do you really want me to spell it out?”
“What I want is for you to get the fuck out of my office.” And for Ella to get out of his mind. It seemed he was destined to give a shit about women who didn’t give a shit about him. First his mother, then the sexual goddess in the Vault who had his gray matter running a minefield of pathetic emotions.
“I will, as soon as you follow me downstairs.” She smiled, big and broad, and backtracked toward the door. “Come on.”
“I said I’ll be down in a minute.”
He needed to pull his shit together before the inevitable slew of questions. He’d left everyone in the lurch for almost three weeks without explanation or remorse over why he’d bunkered down in the office, demanding to be the reclusive office bitch.
He’d played Tetris with the once-perfect work roster, moving employees around like puzzle pieces to fill the holes his absence made. All he could handle were emails, stock orders, and bookwork. Everything else had been left to T.J. and Leo, along with a disgruntled team of staff who’d never liked him anyway.
Most of the time he sat staring at his phone, waiting for calls that never came. One from Tampa. The other from Ella.
Neither connection seemed likely to happen, and each day of radio silence made him more annoyed. At himself. He should’ve known better, on both counts, than to expect a different outcome.
But he’d still texted Ella days after their night in the parking lot. It hadn’t been much in the way of communication. A few sentences to encourage a conversation that never eventuated—I gave your books to a local oncologist. He appreciated your donation and said he’d pass them on to interested patients.
He couldn’t blame her for cutting him off. That was what he’d set out to achieve when he slept with her. That, and to get her as far away from the dick at the bar who couldn’t spare five seconds to ask what she wanted to drink.
She deserved better.
Truth be told, she deserved better than someone who would call her out in the middle of a sex club. Or fuck her in a dark parking lot in a shitty neighborhood. Or let her catch a cab home on her own after she’d been drinking.
He was no better than the champagne-buying prick.
And her lack of reply was a good indication she knew it, too.
“What’s going on with you, Brute?”
“Shit.” He startled at Shay’s voice. “Why are you still lurking?”
She cocked her head and scrutinized every inch of his face. “Something really bad is up with you, isn’t it?”
“Apart from my annoyance levels from your constant nagging, no.” The cloying thoughts of going back to Tampa didn’t help. He’d contemplated making the trip every damn day. There was a hatchet to bury, if only for his sake, because his parents made it clear they still wished he’d been swallowed instead of conceived.
But it was about closure, right?
Or something similar. He’d read a convoluted online article outlining paragraphs of psychological drivel stating all the reasons to be the better person. All of which made a lot of sense. Just not enough to convince him to pack his bags.
Not yet, at least.
“You sure? You haven’t been brutish lately. I was thinking of changing your nickname to melon.”
He scowled.
“Because you’re so melancholy,” she explained.
He pushed all the air from his lungs. Before Ella, Shay’s taunting had kept him on his toes. She was an annoyance he enjoyed reciprocating. Now, all he wanted to do was sink his head back against the chair and go to sleep. “Get out, Shay.”
“See, that right there is a stellar indication of your melon state. Brute would’ve told me to try it and see how I liked the unemployment line, but this melon uses a defeated tone to tell me to leave.”
“I don’t have time for this.”
Her expression stilled as she contemplated him, then slowly her face fell and a potent look of concern bore down on him. “Now I’m really starting to worry.”
“Look, I’m fine, okay? I’ve got shit going on. Personal shit. But it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“You know you can talk to me if you need someone.”
He glared. “Seriously?”
“Don’t be like that. We’re friends. I care about you.”
He closed his eyes and massaged his lids. “I’m not the talking type. You know that.” At least he hadn’t been. Not until Ella. That woman seemed to bring out the verbal diarrhea in him. She currently knew more about his life than his closest friends.
“Well, maybe you should be. It wouldn’t kill you.”
“It might.”
She chuckled, the sound half-hearted. “Have it your way. But just so you know, if you’re not downstairs in five minutes, I’m bringing the team up here.”
“Yeah, I heard.”
Her footsteps faded down the hall, allowing the shit running through his head to reassemble and gain traction. This whole situation had started because Shay had wanted him to help a random chick obtain an orgasm.
But Ella hadn’t turned out to be a random chick, and what he’d given her hadn’t merely been an orgasm. She’d taken much more from him. Too much more. And he had no idea h
ow to get those parts of himself back.
He was stuck feeling too hollow and too heavy, at the same time. There was darkness, as well as picture-perfect clarity. Unpredictability and painful routine.
He pushed from his chair and made his way downstairs to fast-track the punishment. There was no point holding out any longer. His friends had been patient, far more than he would’ve been in return.
They all sat in a line, positioned across the stools at the main Shot bar. Leo, Shay, Cassie, and T.J.—all of them holding matching blank expressions as he walked behind the bar to face them head on.
“You’re late.” Leo slid a stack of mail across the counter. “And you might want to consider checking the mail every once in a while if you plan to continue being the office bitch. This must’ve been sitting in our box for weeks.”
“It was on my to-do list.” He grasped the envelopes and flicked through the pile, finding a mass of potential bills and one hand-written address.
“You seem like you’ve been busy in the office.” T.J.’s statement sounded like more of a question.
“How are you handling the detox from the Vault?” Cassie asked.
“It’s a piece of cake.” It wasn’t a lie. He hadn’t stepped foot inside the sex club in weeks and had no interest in going down there in the near future. Not until he got his head sorted out. His dick, too.
“Speaking of to-do lists.” Leo cleared his throat. “Did you refund everyone’s money for the demonstration night?”
The reminder made him tense. “It’s done.” He ripped open the first envelope and retrieved the folded invoice inside before discarding the rubbish onto the counter. “I’ve refunded everyone involved.”
“Did you explain the cancellation?”
“It’s nobody’s business.”
“Not even ours?” Leo stared him down. “What happened, Brute? We’ve handled you with kid gloves for weeks, but now it’s time for an explanation. I thought you were determined not to let the women win.”
The Vault Box Set Page 49
