Darkly (Follow Me)

by HELEN HARDT

  “Skye, you did what you did. No amount of telling me what kind of person you are will change what already happened.” The words come out more harshly than I mean for them to, so I continue. “Do you think I’ve never made a bad choice? Done something I regret?”

  Offhand, about twelve scenarios come to mind, including a few on that long list of things I don’t think about.

  “No. I mean, I don’t know.”

  “You don’t get to the top without making mistakes along the way. I learn from every mistake, and I never make the same mistake twice. Do you see what I’m getting at?”

  “Yeah. I won’t do it again. I told you that already.”

  “I understand mistakes. I’ve made my share.”

  Call that the understatement of the world. I vow never to bring up the piece of mail she stole again.

  As long as she doesn’t.

  I’m hoping she’ll take my cue and never bring up Addison and me again, as well.

  She nods and takes another sip of Wild Turkey.

  Christopher brings the Thai food into the kitchen.

  “Sasha’s up with Annika,” he tells me. “She enjoyed the doggie place.”

  “Thanks, Christopher. You’re off the clock now. Go have some fun.”

  “I think I’ll just go up to my room and binge watch some TV,” he says, “so I’m here if you need me.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  He heads out of the kitchen, while I pull dishes and utensils out of cupboards and drawers. I dish out a plate of food and hand it to Skye.

  “Thanks,” she murmurs. She sits on one of the barstools at the granite island and winces slightly.

  “Sore?” I ask, warming. She’d better be sore.

  “No. Just a little tender.” She takes a bite of the spicy curry.

  Again, silence descends.

  “Something interesting happened at work today,” she finally says.

  “Oh? What’s that?”

  “Strangest thing,” she says after swallowing a bite of curry. “The social marketing VP for Susanne Cosmetics called the office today. Addie does a lot of Instagram posts for Susanne, so naturally I thought that’s who the call was for. I put it right through.”

  “And…?”

  “Turns out she wanted to talk to me.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Oh? What about?”

  “Get this.” She takes a sip of Wild Turkey. “Remember that post you tagged me in at the MADD Gala?”

  “How could I not?” I say dryly.

  “Well, after I made my profile public, as you suggested, someone asked about the color of my lip stain.”

  “Right. I saw that.” Which effectively tells her I’ve been looking at the picture of us on Instagram.

  Fuck it. I’m interested in this woman. Why hide it? Everyone else seems to know.

  “Yeah, so I answered,” Skye says. “I told her it was Susanne Cherry Russet.”

  I nod.

  “So anyway, like I said, I transferred the call straight to Addie. A few minutes later she comes out of her office with smoke coming out of her ears. I mean, she’s pissed!”

  I roll my eyes. “I imagine that’s a normal occurrence.”

  “It can be, but she’s full of rage now, her whole face is red. She demands to know what’s going on. I don’t know what she’s talking about, of course. I’ve been answering emails, doing other grunt work, so I figure she’s mad about some new offer. You know, probably forty-five K instead of fifty or something. So I make some silly comment about lip plumper, and she goes off. Accuses me of sabotaging her, making her look like she’s out of the loop, all kinds of shit that’s untrue.”

  Addie spreading untruths? Not real shocking. But I’m getting angrier by the minute at her treatment of Skye.

  “Apparently,” Skye continues, “Eugenie—that’s her name, the social media person from Susanne—told Addie that they’ve gotten hundreds of orders for the Cherry Russet lip stain because of the comment I made on your Instagram photo.”

  “Wow,” I say. “That’s pretty amazing.”

  “You’re telling me. But then Addie flies into this serious rage. She grabs my purse and unloads it right on my desk. She grabs a tube of lipstick, which is of course the Cherry Russet lip stain. It’s my go-to shade. Then she throws it on the floor, making her yappy little dog shriek.”

  “Her dog was in the office?”

  “Yeah, she takes him on shoots for pet-related stuff.”

  “Okay. Go on.”

  “So I’m really mad now, but also curious, so I ask Addie if Eugenie called to thank me for making the comment on your post. Addie goes mental again and says Susanne wants me to do an Instagram post and promote the product.”

  I widen my eyes.

  “So I say, ‘Me? I’m no influencer.’ And she flies back into her rant. Apparently now that I’m Braden Black’s girlfriend, I have some kind of clout, and that Eugenie said the color was”—air quotes—“‘absolutely fabulous on me.’”

  She stops abruptly then and closes her mouth. She wants to say something more, but she’s thought better of it.

  I could press her, but I choose not to. I don’t want her pressing me on certain things.

  “Are you going to call her?” I ask.

  “I haven’t decided yet. Addie won’t like it. I’ll probably lose my job.”

  “She hasn’t fired you yet.”

  “No, but we had a shoot today. For the pet boutique where I got Sasha’s gift basket. She needed me.”

  “She’ll always need you.”

  “I’m not sure of that. Besides, the only reason Susanne wants me to do a post about the lip stain is because of you.”

  “So?”

  “How can you be so nonchalant? I’m a nobody. No one gives a crap what kind of lip stain I wear except for the fact that apparently I’m your girlfriend now.”

  “So?” I say again.

  She lifts her eyebrows, shaking her head slightly. “What don’t you get about this?”

  At the moment, what I get is that Addie reacted like an immature brat—which she is—and took it out on Skye, which pisses me off to no end. But instead of saying this, I put on my business hat.

  “Here’s what I get,” I say. “This is an opportunity for you. Would you have this opportunity if not for me? Maybe not, but it’s still an opportunity that has presented itself. Take it, Skye. You’re a fool if you don’t.”

  “A fool? How dare you—”

  I gesture for her to stop. She does.

  “Don’t get all excited. Anyone, including me, is a fool not to take advantage of what’s thrown in his lap. Do you think I haven’t taken every opportunity that’s come my way? I won’t leave you in suspense. I have, and some of them came along simply because I was in the right place at the right time. They had nothing to do with me.”

  “I can’t believe that.”

  “Why not?”

  “You’re a self-made man, Braden.”

  “For the most part, that’s true. But do you truly think I never had any help along the way? That opportunities fell into my lap simply because I’m me?”

  She doesn’t know the half of it. File one thing in particular under that heading of “things I don’t talk about.”

  “I’ve read all about you,” she says.

  “The media never tells the whole story.” They can’t, because I don’t talk about the whole story, and I make sure no one else does, either.

  She smiles. “Will you, then, Braden? Will you tell me the whole story?”

  My lips twitch. Yeah, I should have seen that one coming. This is a woman who sees me coming from every direction. Damn.

  “You are a challenge, Skye.”

  “You’ve said that many times,” she says. “Has it escaped your notice that y
ou’re also a challenge?”

  “I never said I wasn’t.”

  “What will we do, then?”

  I swallow a bite of food. “I’ve never backed down from a challenge.”

  “Neither have I.”

  “Then you’ll do the post for Susanne Cosmetics.”

  She freezes, her forkful of food stopped midway between her plate and her mouth. She walked right into that one, which was wholly my intention.

  “You don’t play fair,” she says.

  “Sure I do. I’m just more experienced than you are.”

  “Posting about lip stain isn’t exactly a challenge.”

  “Of course it is. It’s something new. It’s something you’re not sure you’re up for, but it fell in your lap. You can take your own pictures, Skye. Get credit for them. This is what you want.”

  “I want to take photos of things that move people. No one’s going to be moved by me wearing Susanne lip stain.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because it’s makeup, Braden. Who cares?”

  “Your followers.”

  “The mobs who follow influencers aren’t concerned about anything real.”

  “Do you know all of them?”

  “Of course not, but—”

  “Don’t you see, Skye? You have the chance to grow a platform. To reach people. Once you reach them, you can introduce them to the kind of photos that will move them.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Her mouth drops open.

  Yup, got her.

  Social media wields a lot of power these days. Skye should know. Social media pays her salary.

  “But,” I continue, “never take the first offer. I don’t care how high it is, counteroffer something higher.”

  “What if they tell me to go jump in the lake?”

  “Then they tell you to go jump in the lake.”

  “But then—”

  “Skye, show them you know what you’re worth. They’re not getting just Braden Black’s girlfriend with you. They’re getting an ace photographer, someone who can make their product look amazing. They know that, and if they don’t, they will soon.”

  “Wait a minute,” she says. “You didn’t…”

  I know what she’s asking. She doesn’t have to say the words. It’s not the first time someone thinks I made a phone call. I don’t know anyone at Susanne Cosmetics. I had no idea Skye wears their makeup or that Addison does posts for them.

  “Of course not. I had nothing to do with them calling you. It may surprise you to know that I don’t have time to call cosmetics companies and ask them to hire my girlfriend.”

  She nods.

  “Never be afraid to turn down the first offer. You’re new at this, so they know they can lowball you.”

  “You really are brilliant.”

  “I’m no more brilliant than the next guy,” I counter. “I just know what my strengths are, and I know what they’re worth.”

  True story there.

  “Braden…”

  “Yeah?”

  “Addison thinks you’re behind all this, that you’re trying to make me into an influencer and destroy her in the process.”

  Not a surprise. Addison Ames is such a narcissist that she thinks the whole world revolves around her. It wouldn’t ever occur to her that I don’t have any extra minutes in the day to give her a second thought. And when I do have an extra minute? She’s about one billionth on the list of things I’d choose to think about.

  I take a drink. “That’s what she said?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And you believe her?”

  “No.” She shakes her head vehemently. “Of course not.”

  I don’t reply right away. I will take Skye at her word, but I can’t help but wonder… Does she consider for a moment that I’m trying to sabotage Addie? Does she think I’d resort to such pettiness? Because it is pettiness. Addison and I have a history—a history that is mostly negative.

  I drain the rest of my Wild Turkey. “Addison is a troubled woman.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I think you know.”

  “No, I really don’t.”

  “Don’t you? You’ve been working with her for more than a year. Isn’t it clear that she has to be the center of attention? And when she’s not, she sprouts claws?”

  “I see your point,” she says. “Can you tell me more about her?”

  I pour myself another Wild Turkey. “Nice try.”

  “I don’t understand. Why won’t you talk about your time with Addison? You were both young. Surely it couldn’t have been that horrible.”

  “‘Horrible’ is too tame a word.”

  Try scandalous. Terrifying. Shocking.

  Try the one thing in my adult life that truly scared me.

  She swallows. “How was she in bed?”

  I stay silent. I can’t answer that question. First, Skye doesn’t actually want to know. No woman who ever asks that question of a man about another woman truly wants the answer, no matter what it is.

  Second, I won’t go back to that place. Not for anything or anyone. Even Skye Manning. Even with that pleading look in her beautiful eyes, her lips parted in that way that makes me heart gallop.

  “Tell me, Braden. Please.”

  “Why do you care?”

  “I just…do.”

  “For God’s sake, Skye. We were kids. Neither one of us knew what the hell we were doing.”

  “So you did take her virginity.”

  “Who said that?”

  She doesn’t answer.

  That question didn’t appear in her mind out of thin air. Someone planted it there. Addie? All these years later, she’s going to violate my confidence? Or someone else? Which means Skye’s been making queries she shouldn’t be.

  I advance toward her. “Why does any of this matter to you? Do you want to know if she was better in bed than you are?”

  No response.

  “Do you want to know about all my previous lovers? There are a lot of them, and I won’t apologize for anything I did in the past.”

  She trembles. “I’m not asking you to.”

  “Then exactly what are you asking, Skye?”

  “I…don’t know.”

  “I’ll tell you what you’re asking. You want to know how you compare to Addie, to everyone I’ve slept with.”

  Rather, she thinks she wants to know, but she actually doesn’t. I take a long drink of my bourbon and get ready to give her all she’ll get out of me tonight, including an admission of gratitude to one woman in my history.

  “I’ll tell you only this. I’ve never cut a business trip short for any woman. Never…until now.”

  I move forward until only inches separate us, but I don’t touch her. “You challenge me. You perplex me. And damn it, Skye, you fucking infuriate me. You want to know how I feel about Addison Ames? Honestly?”

  She nods shakily.

  “I’m grateful.”

  “G-Grateful? Why?”

  “If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t know you.”

  “Braden, I—”

  “Shut the fuck up.” I slam my lips down onto hers.

  She opens instantly and accepts my tongue. I denied her a kiss earlier, and I meant to deny her the rest of this night.

  But damn it… The sheer challenge of this woman. Her beauty and her candor. Her utter audacity.

  She spreads her legs, straddles my thigh, and grinds against me.

  Fuck. I kiss her harder, letting her seek friction against me, but only for a moment. I’m not yet ready to let her climax.

  After a few moments, before she gets too far toward her goal, I break the kiss, turn her around against the kitchen island, and brush her slacks and
panties down her hips.

  “Braden… Christopher. And Annika.”

  “This is my house, not theirs.”

  “But…”

  “Quiet!” I roar, fumbling with my belt buckle. I unzip my pants, free my rock-hard cock.

  Then my dick is inside her, pressing like a steam engine between her closed thighs and into her tight channel. God, she feels perfect. Wet and wonderful and perfect.

  She cries out.

  I grab her hands and place them flat on the marble countertop. “Don’t move,” I command.

  I thrust into her again and again.

  I’ve chosen this angle on purpose. She won’t get the friction she needs on her clit. Yes, I’m still denying her an orgasm, at least for this moment. Still punishing her, but this time, it’s not for stealing a piece of mail.

  It’s for getting inside me. Taking me to a place I never wanted to go. I cut a fucking trip short for this woman. She’s trying to become a part of me, whether it’s conscious or subconscious on her part.

  Doesn’t matter. She’s doing it.

  And I’m angry. Angry that she means so much to me in so short a time. Angry that she makes me want things I have no business wanting.

  Angry that she’s still fighting me. Still determined to keep her control.

  Even now, I feel her pushing, trying to move forward against the marble countertop. Trying to touch her clit to the surface.

  “I feel you searching,” I growl against her neck, willing her to sense the rage inside me. “Don’t, Skye.”

  “But I need—”

  “Don’t!” I smack the cheek of her ass and then hold on to it, gripping her tight, keeping her still as I fuck her harder, lose myself in her tight little body. “I told you to keep quiet. You’ll get your orgasm, but on my terms.”

  She tenses, and I feel her brace herself against the counter, brace herself against my thrusts.

  “God, you’re tight. Feels so good.” I bite her neck lightly and then suck at it. “Mine. Mine. Mine.”

  Mine.

  The word surprises me.

  But in the same moment, it doesn’t.

  I’m claiming her. Claiming control over her body, her orgasms. I may not have the control I crave over all of her, but I can at least control her climax.

  I release her ass cheek as I pull out of her pussy.