Crushed (Collided Book 2)

by Portia Moore

  “Madison, you didn’t,” he says pitifully.

  “My best friend and sister already knew about you, but they would never ever tell,” I promise him and he sighs, running his large hand over his beautiful face.

  “No one else can ever know,” he says, and I nod in agreement.

  “I’ll let you get to it,” he says quietly, and his gaze moves from me to his computer screen. I’ve never been so thankful to be dismissed.

  13

  Being at Scully Realty isn’t as bad as I thought it would be after our meeting in his office. Jackson and I haven’t had to be alone with each other since, other than small moments in passing. And when that happens we give brief casual nods to one another. The first time it almost hurt but now it’s normal, and I can almost feel relaxed at work. Going in to week three is not as bad as I thought it would be.

  Alyssa has adapted quickly and is an office butterfly. She’s dressed to the nines every day, even if her skirts are getting shorter by the week. She makes sure to stop by Jackson’s office every day when he’s in town. Her vibe is visibly flirty in our group meetings but from what I’ve seen Jackson is either overlooking it or doesn’t seem to notice, but the other men in the office do. And she’s definitely enjoying the attention from them.

  For instance, today I see her standing by the desk of one of the male associates (I think his name is Ethan), leaning over as he shows her a new mock-up for an ad that he’s been working on. His eyes are fixed on her breasts as he speaks, and she’s all business—that is, until Jackson walks by. Then suddenly her voice gets a little louder and a little breathier, and she moves closer to Ethan, bending over further so that her skirt pulls tight across her hips. It’s blatant and obvious, and Ethan thinks it’s for him. I swear I see him start to sweat.

  Jackson doesn’t even notice. He walks straight past them and over to me, and I immediately attempt to look busy. Well, I am sort of busy. I’m working on putting together a series of photos to queue up for their new social media campaign, once the new apartment block they’re about to sell goes officially live.

  He leans against the edge of my desk. “Good work on the campaign last week you turned in,” he says casually and I nod.

  “You’re really good at your job,” he adds sincerely and almost seems proud of me. I give him a soft smile.

  “Thank you Mr. Scully,” I tell him quietly. A few moments of awkward silence passes before he nods and walks away. I let out a low breath. Soon Jasmine, one of the other social media strategists they’ve brought over, steps inside my cubicle and fans herself.

  I roll my eyes.

  “He’s so hot,” she feigns.

  “And so married and so my boyfriend’s father,” I tell her and her eyes widen. Most people who aren’t higher ups aren’t aware of this.

  “You have the younger version? OMG, let me see a pic.” She giggles. Jasmine is twenty-three and reminds me so much of Zoe Saldana. She would probably be pretty fun to hang out with outside of the office. We’ve made small talk and have been working together well. I’ve been more reserved here than I normally am outside of work just wanting to keep my head low but there’s something warm and fun about her, and I can’t help but smile and show her a picture on my phone of Alex. Her mouth drops open in dramatic fashion.

  “The genes in that family,” she purrs and I can’t help but be proud that he’s mine.

  “Any brothers? Hell, or uncles?” She laughs.

  “Nope, just sisters and aunts,” I tell her and she pouts. Alyssa joins us now.

  “What are you guys grinning at?” she asks.

  “Madison’s hot boyfriend,” she tells her with a nudge.

  “Eww that’s my brother,” Alyssa says with a frown. Jasmine’s eyes go wide again and I laugh at her.

  “Well you’d really be creeped out about me creeping on your dad,” Jasmine adds playfully and Alyssa’s disgust at her fawning over Alex disappears.

  “Oh, Jackson is far from being my dad,” she says with a sneaky grin.

  “It sounds like you wouldn’t mind calling him Daddy though,” Jasmine teases her and instead of setting her straight Alyssa just gives a sneaky grin back and shrugs before sauntering off.

  I feel like I’m going to throw up.

  “Jesus, you look good in that skirt,” I hear Alex say the moment I walk in the door, and I cross the room to where he’s sitting on the couch.

  “Thanks. It’s a little tight, I think.”

  “It’s perfect,” he says, reaching out to grab my ass. He squeezes a handful of it and I yelp. As I move around the couch to lean down and kiss him, he grabs my hips and pulls me forward into his lap.

  I squeak with surprise, and he silences me with a kiss, his hand stroking my hair as his tongue runs along my bottom lip. “Where’s Alyssa?” he asks breathlessly, and I shake my head.

  “She decided to go out for happy hour with some people from the office. I don’t think she’ll be back for a while.”

  “Good.” He pulls me across his lap, so that I have to straddle him or else fall, and the moment I’m sitting atop him he pushes the skirt up so that it’s riding high on my thighs.

  “Alex, what’s gotten into you?” I ask teasingly, running my hands through his thick hair.

  “It’s what’s about to get into you that matters,” he retorts, and pulls my mouth down to his again.

  I sink down onto his lap as he kisses me, and gasp as I feel how hard he is, thick and solid beneath the zipper of his jeans. He reaches between us, fumbling as he kisses me, and when I raise up for a second, leaning forward to kiss him more deeply, I feel him hard against my inner thigh.

  One quick movement of his hand and my panties are pushed aside, the tip of him nestling between my legs, and he groans. “Fuck, you’re so wet already,” he whispers against my mouth, and I slide down, the tip of him pushing inside of me.

  “It’s your fault,” I say teasingly, sliding down another inch.

  “I’ll take all the blame,” he growls as I take another inch of him inside of me, and then another, and then I slide down fully to engulf him, and he groans again, his head falling back against the sofa.

  “I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he says, looking into my eyes as he grabs my hips while I begin to move. “I was so hard earlier thinking about it, I almost got myself off, but…”

  “But?” I prompt, grinding down on him again before rising up, almost letting him slip out of me before sinking back down. His eyes almost roll back in his head.

  “But then you came home. And…god, Madison, I’m not going to last long. I’ve wanted you all day.”

  Sometimes I can’t quite wrap my head around that, that this gorgeous man spends time thinking about me that way, fantasizing about me. I look down at him, at his face upturned towards mine, lust written across every inch of it, at his body buried deeply inside mine, and I ache with something I can’t quite explain, a sort of wonderment and love all mixed together.

  “I missed you, too,” I say teasingly, rolling my hips so that I grind against his pelvic bone, the sensation pushing me higher along with him. I gasp as he rocks his hips upwards too, pulling me downwards so that every inch of him is inside of me, and I feel him throb inside of me, rock-hard.

  He moans, holding my mouth against his as he kisses me deeply again, and I feel him shudder. “Are you almost there?” he whispers, and I nod, the knowledge that he’s just barely holding himself back for me sending a fresh thrill through me. I am on the verge, the muscles in my thighs trembling as I slide up the length of him and down again, and then I feel him grip my waist hard as he comes, his cock pulsing inside of me, filling me, and I cry out against his mouth as my own orgasm washes over me, my back arching as I grind myself down on him, taking every bit of him into me.

  “I love you,” he whispers into my ear as I lay atop him, breathless, and I feel his lips gently on my cheek. “I love you so much.”

  “I love you too.” I trace the edge of his j
aw with one fingertip, and then slowly slide off of him. “Want to shower with me?”

  We’d talked about going out, but by the time we get out of the shower, we’re too exhausted. Alyssa texts to tell us that she’s staying overnight with a friend, and I glance at Alex.

  “Well, looks like we’re lucky enough to have the apartment to ourselves for the night,” I say, grinning happily.

  “I hope it’s.” Alex grimaces. I shoot him a disapproving look. “I just hope it’s not someone she works with, if it’s not.” He glances over at me, snuggled on my side of the couch in leggings and a long shirt beneath a thick knitted blanket. “How have things been with her and my dad?”

  I bite my lip, not sure of what to tell him. I don’t want to worry him or for him to fight with her over nothing. The truth is she’s inappropriate with him but they’re both grown adults and Jackson hasn’t entertained her in the slightest from what I’ve seen. So I’ll tell him only the good.

  “Great, she’s a good worker, everyone in the office loves her,” I tell him with a soft smile. He frowns at me. I wonder if he’s read between the lines from the way his brow is arched at me questioningly, but instead of delving further he just laughs.

  Alex shakes his head. “It’s like we have a teenager without ever having gotten to have a baby. Here we are, at home on date night, worrying about who she’s out with, if she’s with a guy, if she’s being responsible.”

  Something about the way he references having a baby makes me look at him curiously. We haven’t ever really talked about having children. I glue my eyes to the ceiling as I ask him, “Do you want kids in future?” I ask carefully due to the delicate history he had with Holly.

  Alex considers for a moment. “I think so,” he says, his eyes meeting mine. “What about you?”

  I nestle up under the blankets. “I don’t know,” I answer quietly. “I never thought I’d be in love before, that I’d want marriage with someone. But ever since I met you, you’ve changed everything,” I say, revealing a genuine smile. The one he gives me makes my heart melt.

  “After my dad left, I was always afraid that if I loved someone they’d do what he did, just leave,” I admit and he takes my hand in his.

  “You know I’d never do that, right?” Alex looks at me seriously. “I love my dad, but I respect the marriage my mom has with John a lot more than what my dad has with Cassandra. I want what I was raised with—John would never even think about leaving my mom, not for a second. And definitely not us. He was the most hands-on parent I’ve ever known, and that’s the kind of dad I’d want to be. I admire what my dad has built, but that kind of disconnect we had growing up, sometimes it was more like he was my friend instead of a parent. That’s not how I want to be with my kids.”

  I stare at him. He couldn’t have said anything better, not if I’d written him a script. Every fear I have ever had about marriage and family, he’s made huge steps towards laying to rest, just with a few sentences. I slide across the couch towards him, pressing my face against his shoulder as I curl against him and he presses a kiss to the top of my head. He grins down at me as I tilt my face to look up at him. “So, ready to make some babies?” He teases dramatically.

  “I think we need a lot more practice first?” I giggle.

  “That sounds like a great idea.”

  Tonight is the big dinner for Tiffany and Greg’s wedding party. It’s been in the planning for weeks; Alex has talked about it nonstop. This is the one the family is doing without the wedding planner. They’ve gone back and forth about whether to have it at a restaurant (Jackson’s idea) Tiffany and Philip’s condo (their idea) or Jackson and Cassandra’s home (Cassandra’s idea). There had been a lot of eye-rolling on Alex’s part when he’d talked about it, and I’d just waited to find out where we were going.

  They finally settled on it being at a restaurant, some place expensive and super extravagant. Alex has been spending most of the day setting up with his team to take care of an event he has later tonight, so I have the apartment mostly to myself while I get ready. Alyssa isn’t here; she’s been away from the apartment more and more lately and I’m wondering if she’s found a guy she’s into. I plan on bringing it up tomorrow. I’ve been so busy between my new work as an office consultant and still trying to manage my own business and keep Alex’s social media going that I haven’t had a lot of time to focus on it.

  I take my time getting ready. I do my hair in the big, thick, bouncy curls that I know Alex loves, and put on some light makeup, complete with thin black wings and red lips. Then I slip into the dress—a fitted black lace sheath with elbow-length sleeves, a deep V, and eyelash detailing along the hem and the V of the neckline. I add a pair of emerald-cut aquamarine earrings that my mother gave me for my birthday a few years ago and a shiny rose-gold bangle bracelet, and look at myself in the mirror, quickly appraising the overall effect. I step into my highest black heeled pumps to finish it off, and take one more quick look. I feel a little odd. It’s so rare that I get this dressed up, but I have to admit I look good if I do say so myself…and I’m saying so.

  When I see Alex’s face as I walk out to meet him in the living room, it’s clear that it’s more than good. His mouth drops open a little and his eyes light up, and he grasps my waist, drawing me up against him and giving me a searing, deep kiss.

  “Maybe we should skip the dinner,” he murmurs, running his thumb along the edge of my lower lip.

  If this was anyone but his sister I’d get on my knees right now doing everything I can to get out of this thing. I don’t want to be around Jackson, and I want to be around Cassandra even less. I hate how much I’ve been feeling guilty lately, which is most of the time. But it’s because I know Alex’s family is just as important to him as mine.

  “But then I’d get cheated out of seeing you all dressed up,” I say, rising up on my tiptoes a little to kiss him again. “How about we take a raincheck on that until tonight?”

  “I guess.” He groans before kissing me once more, and then turns to go into the bedroom. “Give me about ten minutes and I’ll be ready. Or feel free to join me, but then we’ll

  definitely be late.”

  I lean against the couch as I wait on him, thinking how lucky I am. Everything between us is so easy and natural—our day-to-day life, our banter, our physical attraction to one another. I never feel as if anything I do is forced or calculated, and I never feel as if he’s doing that, either. This is the kind of relationship I never really believed existed, and now I have it.

  And I’m going to do everything I can to keep it.

  When Alex emerges, he has perfectly styled but messy hair and fresh cologne, wearing black pressed trousers and a dark blue button-down that sets off his eyes, a blue and gold paisley tie knotted at his neck. I grasp it gently and pull him down for one more kiss before we head outside, walking through the busy nighttime streets hand in hand to the closest subway stop.

  The dinner is downtown at one of the nicest Italian restaurants in Manhattan.

  Almost everyone is already there when we arrive. True to Alex’s predictions, they’ve rented out the private dining room at the back of the restaurant, multiple long tables taking up the entire room. The wall facing the city is made entirely of glass with brick-columned supports in between the panes, looking out on the vast, glittering city. We have a sommelier all to ourselves, and four waitstaff bustling from person to person, taking drink and appetizer orders.

  We take a seat, and Alex quickly orders wine for us both—he’s the alcohol expert, at least when it comes to the classy kind. I order a meat and cheese sampler and a Caprese salad for us to share, and then I see his face fall as he looks down the table.

  I follow his gaze down to where Tiffany is sitting with Philip, her bridesmaids in the seats to her right, next to, and in front of her and sitting in the fucking middle of the other girls, is Holly.

  I suck in a quick breath, trying to keep my face neutral. Alex is failing miserably at it; he
is pissed with a capital P. I reach underneath the table to grab his hand. He squeezes it back, but I can tell that it’s taking everything in him not to just get up and leave. I can’t imagine how he must be feeling—it’s hard enough for me to be around Jackson with our complicated past. After what Holly did to him…What the hell was Tiffany thinking, she should have at least told him but she probably knew he wouldn’t come if she did.

  I signal the waiter to fill our wine glasses. I can see the wheels spinning in Alex’s head too as he starts to pick aimlessly at the food, and I wish I could think of some way to distract him, but I’m frozen. This night is stressful enough already—my plan was to just keep my head down, talk as little as possible, and enjoy the food. Now there’s this new grenade that’s been thrown into the mix.

  Jackson is two seats down from Alex, sitting next to Cassandra, and he leans forward, asking Alex a question about how the bartending is picking up. I feel a momentary warmth towards Jackson for distracting him, and it’s an odd feeling. I haven’t had any sort of positive feeling in regards to him in a long time.

  It makes me pause for a second and think of how things might be if the secret didn’t exist, if we could just exist as a family. I love Alex’s family for the most part, and the idea of having them in my life permanently is a sweet one. It’s just this one thing, hanging in the air, and I wish there were some way to clear it.

  But letting the secret out means losing all of this. Could Cassandra forgive him?

  Maybe?

  I don’t think it’s completely unrealistic for Alex to forgive his dad if he knew that he knew me before, but I don’t know if he could ever forgive me.

  I glance down the table, and I see one of the girls look at me and then lean over to whisper in Holly’s ear. She turns to look at me, giggles slightly, and then looks away. A knot forms in my stomach. She looks beautiful, thin, and polished in a dress that’s clearly designer, with Louboutin shoes and flawless makeup. Too bad she’s worse than the devil. Who the fuck lies about a miscarriage to have an abortion and she looks so freakin’ smug? If it were me I’d be too embarrassed to come anywhere near here. If I knew what I knew when she so arrogantly sauntered into his apartment, I would have made her feel as low as she should have felt.