Blind Devotion

by S. Nelson

  “Do you mind if I ask how she died?”

  “Brain aneurysm.” My words drifted off. “One day she was just . . . gone.” Flinching from a slight noise Max made, I widened my smile. “I miss my dad as well.”

  “How do you mean?” He seemed genuinely interested, which was a good thing since I’d never told anyone that before.

  “He was different when she was alive. He was still strict and controlling, but he was gentler about it. She knew how to make him change his mind about things, challenged him in ways I think he appreciated. Plus, he smiled a lot more then.”

  With the heaviness of the conversation, I was thankful when Max switched topics, yet again. “Don’t you get lonely here all by yourself? What is there, like four floors?”

  “Five, along with a basement and rooftop deck.”

  “Wow. Now I’m kind of jealous,” he jested, rounding the island until he was only a couple of feet from me.

  “I’m sure your place is just as nice. Besides, I doubt you’re broke.”

  “Oh yeah, what makes you say that?” He fiddled with his tie until it was hanging loosely around his neck. Images of him stripping off his clothes rushed in, and for a brief moment, I had to close my eyes, although the lack of sight only made things worse, my imagination running at full force. “Are you okay?” he asked, gently touching my upper arm.

  My lids sprang open, and I shuffled away from him, answering as if I hadn’t just been picturing him all sorts of naked. “Because you strike me as a man who doesn’t settle for anything less than the best.”

  He squinted his eyes as if he was in deep thought before replying, “You’re right. I do have money.” He smiled. “I used to own my own firm back in California, and even though half of it went to my ex, I still walked away with enough money to satisfy me.”

  After a bout of silence passed, Max’s smile slipped in lieu of a sexy smirk. “Bathroom?”

  “Oh yeah, sorry. It’s right down that hall.” I pointed. “Second door on your left.” His shoulder brushed mine as he passed, and I swore I heard him groan at the contact.

  Or maybe that was me.

  Alina

  I COUNTED THE seconds until Max returned, mindlessly straightening up an already impeccably organized kitchen. What was I doing? Playing with fire, that’s what. I must’ve been out of my mind to allow him inside my home, knowing damn well the man did things to me. Not only to my body but to my brain, scrambling it all up so I could barely think straight. Having him so near was only going to end in disaster, for everyone involved.

  My back was turned when he walked up behind me, sliding between the island and the counter. For a moment our bodies were flush, my heart kicking up in my chest at the intimate contact.

  “Alina,” he whispered, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up as if they were waiting for him to speak. The sexy rasp of his voice, especially when lowered, was even more potent, promising me desires beyond my wildest imagination.

  “Don’t,” I warned. “Just don’t.”

  “I’m not sure what you mean.” He retreated and took his warmth with him. “I was just going to ask if I could use your phone after all. It appears mine is dead.”

  Silently cursing myself for being so presumptuous, I whirled around, my arms momentarily resting on the edge of the counter behind me. “Oh, sure.” I hurried from the kitchen in search of my purse, which I’d left on the console table in the foyer. When I’d retrieved my cell, I turned back around only to find Max looming in the doorway, his eyes fixated on me in such a way I knew I hadn’t misunderstood the desire in his voice when he’d said my name just moments ago.

  His stalked toward me with purpose, every movement of his body orchestrated to drive me insane. Instinctually, I retreated until my back hit the stairwell, trapped and leaving myself open and vulnerable. I struggled between wanting to kick him out of my house and wanting to pull him closer, so close it would be as if we were one.

  A few more strides and there would be no turning back. I drew my lower lip between my teeth in an attempt to distract myself, but all I ended up doing was enticing Max.

  “You shouldn’t do that,” he warned, edging closer until he stood directly in front of me.

  “Do what?”

  “Bite your lip. That’s my job.” Max had played around before, teased me to try and garner a reaction with things he’d say, but I knew this was different. He was completely serious. There was no mistaking his intentions.

  “I think it’s safer if you leave now.”

  The corners of his eyes crinkled. “Safer? For who? You or me?”

  “Both of us.”

  Instead of taking my half-assed advice, Max planted his hands on the wall behind me, caging me in. He leaned down until his lips were a breath from mine, the air between us melding together.

  “Tell me you don’t want me to kiss you. Tell me to stop.” His mouth whispered against mine, so close I felt the tiniest tickle. “Go ahead and lie. Tell me you don’t want me as much as I want you.” As he gently snagged my bottom lip between his teeth, my entire body locked with anticipation. When the tip of his tongue danced over that same lip, I knew the fight was over. The struggle to stay away from him had ended, if only for a brief moment. The one lapse in judgment I’d allow myself.

  As soon as a moan escaped from the deepest part of me, he latched on to my mouth and poured all his desire into me. His kiss was all-consuming, awakening me from a sleep I’d been trapped in my entire life.

  Our tongues dueled to taste the other, an all too consuming passion the likes I’d never known before. Hands grappled, breaths mingled, hearts pounded fiercely. Reaching up, I ran my hands through his thick hair, grabbing him only to pull him even closer. He moaned, the rumbling vibration tightening the needy ache pulsing between my legs.

  No words were exchanged. No promises or denials, just desire in its purest form. Biting and sucking, rough then soft, teasing and tormenting until I could barely stand.

  When he pressed his lower body to mine, I bit the tip of his tongue in excitement. I felt his lips curve upward before he reciprocated. But when his arm circled my waist then traveled lower, I knew I was entering dangerous territory. I wanted Max to ravage me, to perform all the dirty acts I’d imagined, but I also knew if I allowed this to go any further I’d be welcoming trouble into my life.

  As he began to lift the hem of my skirt, I withdrew my hands from his hair and placed them on his chest, pushing him back a step. Our mouths parted, and I immediately missed him, but I knew it was for the best. Otherwise, I’d end up making a huge mistake.

  “We can’t,” I cried.

  “Why?”

  “You know why?” Averting my eyes, I just couldn’t bear to look at him, knowing he would pounce on me as soon as he saw my hesitancy.

  “Because of Harris?” he growled. “You don’t want to marry that guy, and we both know it.”

  “So?” There was no point in trying to lie. “We’re still engaged and kissing you is wrong.”

  “How can it be wrong when it’s what we both want?” His thumb traced my lower lip before dipping inside, widening my mouth ever so slightly. I bit him, just enough to make him stop teasing me, but it backfired. Snatching his hand away, he crushed his mouth back over mine, holding me steady with a firm grip on my nape. I allowed myself to get lost in him for a few moments longer, but as soon as the need intensified, threatening to pull me under, I pushed him back once again.

  “Stop.” My fingertips covered my lips, torn between wanting him to ignore my wariness and hoping he’d respect my wishes enough to give me more space, no matter how hard it seemed for both of us.

  “Fine,” he conceded, raking his hand through his hair and taking another step back. “But this isn’t over.” The slight crack in his voice told me everything.

  Two days had passed since I’d laid eyes on Max. Either I’d been successful at avoiding him around the office, rescheduling appointments and ducking out early, or he’d bee
n the one hiding out. Although, what I knew of him told me he wasn’t a man who shied away from confrontation, our situation an uneasy one for sure.

  Forty-eight hours of solace didn’t stop me from jumping every time someone appeared in the doorway to my office, or when someone called my name as I walked to the ladies’ room or flitted off to the breakroom to pour myself yet another cup of caffeine. Max had me on edge even without being near me, a reaction I found increasingly annoying.

  Lost in my daily work, I startled when someone rapped on my door, entering without prompting.

  “Hi,” my father greeted, stepping into my office and walking straight toward the wall of windows overlooking the city. Typically, all the associates worked together in what was referred to as “the pit,” but after two years I’d accepted a slice of nepotism, securing my own office away from the rest of the associates. But to be fair, I’d worked my ass off in order to justify the quick jump upstairs, four floors to be exact. I’d been at the top of my class at Columbia, brought in more money than any other associate, even with my pro bono cases, and often helped my father on a case, the most recent being the merger between two huge tech firms.

  “Hi.” I knew he wasn’t stopping by to ask how my day was going or for idle chitchat. He barely asked about my personal life unless it had something to do with Chris. When he remained silent, continuing to gaze outside, I cleared my throat before speaking. “Dad?”

  Whirling around, he gave me a tight smile before approaching, swiftly pulling a card from the inside of his suit jacket.

  “Here. Give her a call.” He tossed the card on the top of my desk, not even waiting for me to accept it. Turning it over, I saw the name Gigi Hallow.

  “Who is this?”

  “She’s the most sought-after wedding planner in New York. At least that’s what I hear. She’s expecting your call.”

  I knew my engagement was real, for lack of better wording, but having my father continue with the charade nailed home just how much he expected me to follow through with his plans for my life.

  I wanted to shout at him, tell him to mind his own damn business, but a screaming match, mostly on my part, would do nothing to solve the situation. He was stubborn, unnervingly so. So I told him what he wanted to hear.

  “I’ll call her later this evening.”

  “Make sure you do. Fall is not far off, and if you want to book The Plaza, you can’t waste any time.” He seemed so blasé about the entire conversation, as if we were discussing where to go for lunch, not marrying his only daughter off to someone she barely knew.

  “The Plaza?” I shouted, lowering my voice once I realized he’d left my office door open. “I don’t want to get married there.” Truth be told, I had no idea where I wanted to get hitched, the thought still not completely forming in my brain as reality.

  “Then how about The Four Seasons?” My father walked toward the door. “Will that work better?”

  Reining in my rising temper, I swallowed the harsh words bubbling up and decided I wasn’t going to have this conversation right then. Besides, I was almost certain The Plaza and The Four Seasons were booked for the next two years.

  Please God, don’t let anything be available.

  “I’ll talk to Chris, and we’ll make a decision.” I knew placating my father was the only way he’d leave my office, and the more time I spent in his presence, the worse my mood would sour.

  “Good. Good,” he repeated, giving me a curt nod before disappearing.

  Max

  “SO, ARE YOU putting me up for the weekend or what?”

  “I guess,” I huffed, annoyed my meeting with Amber was fast approaching.

  “Look, if you’re gonna be a dick about it, I can get a hotel.”

  “No. Sorry. It’s not you.” A moment of silence passed. “Swing by my office and I’ll give you a key. I’ll text you the address.” We hung up without a formal goodbye.

  My brother, Hal, was visiting and while I was looking forward to spending some time with him, I had so much shit going on with work I wouldn’t be able to let loose, not like the good ol’ days. The firm kept me busy, and the parts of my brain that weren’t focused on my cases were all too consumed with Alina.

  Speaking of . . . I hadn’t seen her in two days. Not since I left her house pissed off and horny as hell. That kiss. It was all I could do to try and forget, but nothing worked. Not even chastising myself for chasing another man’s woman, and certainly not rationalizing why it was a bad idea to get involved with someone I worked with.

  Still, with all the negative things that could transpire, I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to barge into her office, slam her against the wall and take what was mine.

  Delusional, I knew, but there was no more room for rational inside my fucked-up brain.

  The knock on my door drew me away from my irritating thoughts. Linda poked her head in. “Mrs. Sotter is here to see you.”

  Against my better judgment, I told my secretary to send her in, and for the next hour and a half, I dodged multiple sexual advances, went over the couple’s list of assets, and told her if there were any skeletons in her closet, she’d better give me a heads-up so there were no surprises.

  When nine o’clock finally rolled around, Linda having gone home hours prior, I was finally done for the evening. For once, I wasn’t bringing any work home with me, instead meeting Hal for a drink at Carlyle’s, praying he’d be the distraction I so desperately needed.

  “What’s wrong with you? That’s the fourth time you made me repeat myself.” Hal turned in his seat to look behind him. “Is there some hot chick here you’re obsessing about?” If he only knew.

  Hal was two years my junior, and while there was a physical resemblance between us, he took after our mother while I took after our father. The biggest difference was our hair color. His a lighter brown and mine almost black.

  “What? No,” I placated. “Nothing like that. I just have a lot on my mind, that’s all. Sorry.” And I was sorry. Sorry I wasn’t paying attention to my brother the way I should’ve been. I was too busy chastising myself for doing the one thing I swore I’d never do. I was pursuing another man’s woman. His fucking fiancée to be exact.

  “Anything you wanna talk about?”

  “No. Just dealing with the typical shit.”

  “Speaking of . . . how’s Charlotte?” I almost choked on my drink. Not that the comparison wasn’t true, but I hadn’t been expecting him to say what he did.

  “How should I know? We haven’t spoken in months. Last I knew she was shacking up with some tattoo artist.”

  “That’s not the guy, is it?” he asked, draining the rest of his drink and leaning back in his seat, his eyes carefully watching me.

  When Charlotte and I separated, I didn’t talk much about what happened, other than she fucked some other guy. Our marriage had been on the rocks, but at least I’d stayed faithful. The same couldn’t be said about her, unfortunately.

  “No, it was someone else.”

  I’d come home early from a business trip when I caught my wife and some guy in bed together. Or rather, some kid. He was barely twenty, and from his reaction, I figured he didn’t know the bitch he was banging was married. It was the only thing that stopped me from beating him. Although I did threaten if he ever came near her again, he’d regret it. I moved out of my house that same evening. It wasn’t until after a couple months of reflection did I realize I wasn’t heartbroken over my wife cheating; it was that my ego had been severely bruised.

  Charlotte and I hadn’t had the perfect marriage, not by any means, and as the years wore on, we drifted further and further apart. I worked long hours in order to provide the best lifestyle I could, and she took full advantage with shopping sprees and weekend getaways with “the girls,” which I later found out to be a lie as well. Turned out Charlotte had slept with one of her friend’s husbands, and that friend told me everything after she found out. Thankfully, I’d already left Charlotte, so the wound o
f hearing about yet another one of her indiscretions didn’t cut as deeply.

  Hal flagged down the waitress to order another round for both of us, and initially, I was going to pass, but as soon as I saw Harris enter the place, I knew more alcohol was needed. Thankfully Alina wasn’t with him, both a blessing and a curse.

  “Hey, do you know that guy?” my brother asked, snatching his drink from the waitress’s tray.

  I knew exactly who he was referring to, although I was curious why he asked. “The blond guy by the bar?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He works at the firm. Why are you asking?”

  “Because I swear he’s glaring at you. Then again, I‘m seeing double, so what do I know?” He attempted a laugh but failed.

  “Speaking of, wanna slow down a bit? Pace yourself. I don’t want you puking all over my place when we get home.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I know how to hold my liquor.” Suddenly, there was tension in his expression I hadn’t noticed when we first sat down.

  “What’s going on?” I prompted, giving him my undivided attention for the first time that evening.

  “Nothing.”

  “Don’t give me that shit. I know there’s something going on.”

  “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

  “Does it have anything to do with a certain brunette waitress?” Hal had been dating Stacey for close to a year. I’d only met her a handful of times, and I didn’t think much of her. She reminded me too much of Charlotte for some reason.

  “She’s a bartender, and yes, but I don’t want to talk about it. Everything got fucked up last week, and I just needed to get away to clear my head.”

  “Hence the impromptu visit?”

  “Yeah,” he answered with reservation, finishing off the rest of his drink and lifting his chin toward our waitress once more.

  Alina

  HOLDING MY HEAD in my hand, my other cradling my office phone, I inhaled a deep breath while listening to my client warn me about her ex.