Now Or Never (Irresistible Book 5)

by Stella Rhys

  This was Iain Thorn we were talking about.

  Not only was he my forever crush, he was showing me ways to come that I’d never even dreamed about. He was making me feel adventurous and alive in every way I’d hoped and prayed for when I was anxiously planning my move to this city and waiting in secret for the day to finally come. As far as I was concerned, this experience was good for me. Besides, flings were just part of being an adult. Whatever this was would only fortify me emotionally and make me a stronger person.

  Right? Right.

  I’d fully convinced myself by the end of the short call Iain took, saying “yes,” “no,” and “will do” before hanging up.

  Once he set his phone back down, I asked, “So, when will I see you again?”

  He looked at me as he headed for the seat at the table in front of the window, where his leather shoes sat neatly waiting for him.

  “I can’t say yet since I’ll be in Boston for the next few days,” he said, sitting down.

  I nodded, thinking oof and simultaneously ridiculing myself, because a second ago, I was sure I’d never see Iain again. Now, a two-day wait felt like an eternity.

  “You look distressed,” Iain observed.

  “Um, yeah…” I tucked my hair behind my ear. “I think because me and my pussy have been a little spoiled lately. But we’ll survive.”

  Iain laughed as he put on his shoes. “I’ll more than make it up to you when I come back.”

  “I believe you,” I said, already fantasizing about all the different ways Iain would fuck me the next time I saw him. “I’m on the pill, by the way.”

  He looked up at me, surprised. “Why are you telling me this?”

  I paused. Was that not a normal thing to say to someone you were sleeping with? “Because… I’m clean?” I said, suddenly doubting my need to bring this up. “And if you are—”

  “Don’t finish that sentence,” he cut me off brusquely as he got up.

  I frowned. “Why?”

  He eyed me for a few seconds as he straightened his tie.

  “Because I need to be at my office in twenty minutes, and I can’t afford to get hard at the thought of fucking your pussy without a condom.”

  I bit my lip, suppressing that natural thrill I got anytime Iain took that tone with me.

  “Okay.” Just work topics then. “What do you have to do in Boston?” I asked, suppressing a grin because for a second, he was silent, running his hand across his jaw and staring at nothing, as if he needed a moment to mentally reset from the thoughts I’d just put in his mind.

  “I’ll be there to negotiate a contract extension for a client,” he finally answered.

  “And you’ll be back in New York after that?”

  “I’ll most likely be in Cincinnati after that.”

  “Oh, right… because you don’t take weekends,” I said, catching his eye and nodding with feigned judgment for a bit. “Which is crazy,” I added, just for good measure.

  His mouth curved. “I’m aware of how you feel about it, Holland.”

  “Yes, I am a big proponent of me time, which I understand you think is crazy, judging by the way you looked at me when I mentioned it.”

  “I don’t think you’re crazy,” Iain said, though he didn’t sound fully convincing, especially not with that smile on his lips as he brought his leather suitcase onto the table. “I just don’t know what that concept entails.”

  “It’s just like a catch-up day with yourself,” I said simply, with a shrug.

  “And what exactly do you do to catch up with yourself?”

  “Well, the point is it’s different for everyone. It depends on what type of self-care you need or respond to. You know.”

  Iain looked at me like he very much didn’t know. “So tell me what your me time looks like,” he said before slipping a folder out from his briefcase and flipping it open. His eyebrows pulled together as he read something off the papers inside, and I could tell he was busy, so I spared him a half-hearted answer.

  “I’d tell you but it would probably sound silly to someone who isn’t me, so…” I gave a quiet laugh as I smoothed my hands over the comforter and eyed my phone on the nightstand. My screen was lit with texts from Mia but I knew they’d make me snort, so I decided to save them for later. “I’m going to keep that to myself for now,” I said quietly, mostly to myself since I was pretty sure Iain had stopped listening.

  But when I turned back to him, he was closing his folder and looking at me as he tucked it back into his briefcase.

  “Tell me,” he said sincerely.

  His voice was soft an warm and it made my heart both hurt and sing, because the look in his eyes combined with his undivided attention reminded me suddenly of how he used to be with me. How special he used to make me feel.

  I smiled, feeling my cheeks warming up as I explained.

  “Well… basically, I have a weekly FaceTime with a good friend. Same time every week. Then I pick a place to have tea or coffee with a pastry, or if the weather is nice, I bring a little lunch to the park. And then I do a little ritual there that I’m not going to tell you about, because you’re going to make fun of it, but it’s good for me. It makes me happy. And that’s the whole point of it. Having some time every week where you prioritize strictly yourself. It’s like…” My gaze drifted as I trailed off, trying to think of the right word. “Maintenance, I guess. For you. And your mind,” I finished, fully behind my words but just a little embarrassed as I turned back to Iain to find him looking at me, smiling like he found me interesting, but mostly peculiar.

  “I see,” he said before returning his attention to the papers in his briefcase. He was still smiling, looking maybe charmed but definitely not swayed into adopting this habit of mine. But that was okay. It made tons of sense to me—like my own personal religion. But not everybody got it.

  “I mean do you actually need to work every weekend?” I asked from the bed as I watched Iain get ready. “Or do you just do it out of habit?”

  Iain only glanced at me this time. “It’s my preference.”

  “Because?”

  “Because I enjoy being at the top of my industry. Bringing success to this agency that it never achieved before I took over,” he said, making my lips form an O as I nodded quietly to myself, realizing the probable reason for that motivation.

  A post-mortem fuck you to his dad.

  “Okay. I get that,” I said understandingly. “But what about holidays? What about your birth—” My eyes went wide before I could even finish my question. “Oh my God, it’s your birthday’s this month. It’s in two weeks!” I realized, looking at the date on my phone. “Are you going to do something? What are you going to do?”

  Iain smirked at my unbridled excitement. “I’ll be working. Especially hard, in fact, since your brother will be in New York shortly after, and he’ll expect me to give him a full night of my time,” he said before asking, “What are you doing?”

  I didn’t even realize I was already on my phone, suddenly looking at my calendar and my weather app. “The weather is perfect this weekend and next. It’s going to be like, eighty and sunny.”

  I looked up to find him watching me with amusement. “Your point being what?”

  “That you shouldn’t spend such a nice weekend in a totally landlocked state.”

  “I appreciate your concern, but I very much prefer to get my work done.”

  “Mm.” I crinkled my nose and teased him with a dubious sound. “I think deep down, you know you could use a weekend off. And you know what? I’m going to convince you to take it,” I said brightly, though I wasn’t even fully sure I meant it till Iain looked at me and laughed.

  “Well, good luck with that.”

  “What, you don’t think I can do it?”

  “No. But I like that you believe in yourself,” he said as he went out to the living room.

  Asshole, I thought as I tossed the pillow aside and threw the sheets off me, getting out of bed to follow I
ain outside.

  I had my panties on, but I couldn’t find my bra since last night, so I went hunting for it as Iain put a pod in the sleek little espresso machine sitting in the corner.

  “Have you see my bra?” I asked after a minute with no luck.

  I could hear the smirk in his voice as he said, “No. But I’m going to need you to cover up your tits right now.”

  I looked out the window. “Why? No one can see.”

  “I can see,” he said, turning to me as he brought a white espresso cup to his lips. “And if I have to look at them any longer, I’m going to fuck them.”

  I swallowed. “Fair enough,” I said, grabbing a pillow off the couch.

  “Coffee for you?” he offered, smirking when he peered over to find me hugging the pillow to my front.

  “Sure,” I said.

  And as he made another cup, I felt a sudden rush—the return of all these memories of him I’d suppressed while desperately trying to get over him at seventeen. They used to pain me, but my heart felt warm right now as I stood there, perched at the edge of the couch, watching Iain make coffee for me the way he used to do for everyone back home in Jersey.

  I was lost in my thoughts till the grinding hum of the machine stopped and Iain was coming toward me, handing over my cup.

  “What’s that look for?” he asked, his gaze shrewd on me.

  I smiled sheepishly. “Oh, nothing. Just remembering you and your coffee.”

  It was the first and perhaps only thing that ever endeared him to my impossible-to-please mom. She was so hell-bent on disapproving of Iain’s presence and interacting with him as little as possible. The completely blank-faced stare she reserved for him had been perfected within hours of his first stay with us, but then his second stay came around, and that time he came bearing gifts—specifically coffee that he brought back from Brazil.

  “You actually managed to get some points with my mom with the, um… what was it? The cafezinho,” I recalled, surprising myself by pulling up the memory of the word. I was pretty sure it just meant little coffee, but it involved Iain boiling sugar and water in a pot before adding coffee grounds then straining it through a cloth filter into espresso cups, making for very little, very intense shots of black coffee.

  Apparently, he and Adam drank them every day, several times a day, especially during exams. And since coffee was Mom’s only vice, she couldn’t help but try it.

  And since she loved it, Iain started to get more of a pass in our house.

  I expected to see him crack a smile at the memory, but instead I felt an odd shift in the air as he said nothing.

  “Do you still go to Brazil every summer?” I asked, remembering how he’d always leave for his yearly trip directly from our house.

  His parents had divorced when he was young and after, his mom had moved back home to Sao Paulo to live with her sister. I remembered that Iain always left for Brazil straight from his June visit to our house, because the flight was shorter and there was something about needing to bring them things from New York, where his mom had lived for so long before the divorce.

  Images flashed in my mind as I remembered the suitcase he always packed full of gifts for his family. Perfume for his mom. Skincare products for his aunt. Sneakers, sports jerseys and electronics for his little cousin.

  Iain took a last drink from his cup then peered briefly at her. “Not as often,” he replied briskly said before grabbing his briefcase and heading or the door.

  I blinked, staring at his back for a second.

  Cool. Guess you did it again, I thought wryly when I realized I’d touched on another sore subject that hadn’t been sore the last time we spoke. But clearly everything’s changed, and you can’t talk about just anything anymore, I thought, feeling a little frustrated and a lot tense because I feared Iain was going to be icy with me again, the way he was with me last night.

  But once he got to the door, he turned to look at me.

  “I’ll see you on Monday,” he said, hitting me with such a big wave of relief that I exhaled the breath I didn’t know I was holding.

  “Not unless I get you home before then,” I replied, to which he smiled.

  “I wouldn’t count on it, Holland.”

  “Yeah, but remember the last time you said that to me?”

  With a hand on the doorknob, he actually took the time to pause and think about it. And when he remembered, he tilted his head down and smiled broadly to himself, giving a low, sexy laugh as he said, “I do.”

  It was the biggest smile I’d seen on him yet, and in that moment, I found myself quietly bursting inside, overwhelmed by how fucking attracted I was to this man. I didn’t even know what was coming over me when I blurted, “Wait!” as he was opening the door. All I knew was that I was suddenly hopping off the couch with urgency, heading to where he was paused at the door. His brow was furrowed, but his gaze was curious as I ran to him, the stupid pillow still hugged to my chest.

  But I discarded it as soon as I stood with my bare feet in front of his shoes, and without even thinking—or caring about whether or not I was allowed to do this—I grabbed hold of his shoulders and hoisted myself onto my toes, pressing a kiss onto his lips.

  I could feel immediate hesitation. His surprise against my mouth. He tilted his head, allowing me to kiss him, but he didn’t kiss me back. His lips moved, but it wasn’t quite a kiss, and when he pulled away to look at me, to stare deep into my eyes, I felt a second of red-faced regret.

  But then I heard the light thump of his suitcase dropping to the floor, and with both hands cupping my face, he kissed me back.

  His tongue swept with an instant hunger through my mouth as he backed me against the wall, pressing me against it then hoisting me up on his body. Wrapping my bare legs around his waist, he pressed his warm chest to mine, forcing my heartbeat to flutter frantically against his as he kissed me deeply, his tongue rough and shameless, pulsing and laving against mine, and devouring me so feverishly that fiery excitement ricocheted in my chest, bouncing around like a wild creature that had been waiting forever to be unleashed.

  And just as I felt it, Iain squeezed me, like he could feel it too.

  For what felt like forever, we just kissed, and when he finally pulled away, his chest was heaving, and his eyes were bright, unblinking on me. For once, he looked a little unprepared, like he’d been caught off guard, and it made me break into a smile.

  His eyes still moved all over my face—from my eyes to my nose to my lips as he let me back down. And once my feet were firmly back on the ground, I put my focus on straightening his tie, smoothing my hands over his shirt, giving myself the excuse to feel all that hard muscle under my palms before looking back up in his eyes.

  “Have a good day at work,” I murmured as he tipped my chin up to study me.

  But before I could fully melt under the weight of his stare, he kissed me again.

  Softer this time.

  He said goodbye close to my lips, his eyes seeming like they didn’t want to look away. But then finally they did, and he was gone, leaving me to stand all alone in the hotel room, smiling giddily to myself, and quietly overflowing with this feeling of warmth that brought me back to a place I probably wasn’t supposed to be, because I wasn’t supposed to be this enamored with Iain Thorn again. I wasn’t supposed to lose myself in another all-consuming crush.

  But as I chewed the corner of my grinning lips, I reasoned that it was a completely different situation this time.

  And beyond that, I just couldn’t help myself.

  18

  IAIN

  Four hours after parting ways with Holland and I was in Boston, in an entirely different hotel room.

  By now, an hour flight, a drive and half a meeting’s worth of prep with my team had passed.

  And yet I was still thinking about her lips.

  In a sun-drenched suite overlooking the waterfront, I sat among a handful of my staff, reviewing the thick black binders packed with all the informa
tion we needed to negotiate a record contract extension this afternoon. It had taken a thirty-man research team two weeks to prepare this data, and at this very moment, I was supposed to be locked into it, my head focused strictly on numbers. Numbers like Boston’s team payroll and budget, their franchise value and revenue, their statistical chances at a World Series and how all that was directly affected by my client’s star performance on the team. That was what I was supposed to be thinking about.

  But instead, my mind was on Holland’s lips. The fucking adorable look in her eyes as she ran to me with that pillow hugged to her chest.

  Sex with her was unlike anything I’d ever felt in my life, but it was the kiss that had me effectively fucked.

  I’d already accepted the instantaneous response my body had to hers. The fact that she could get me hard as a rock in about two seconds flat. My cock was addicted to Holland Maxwell, and I could live with that, but I wasn’t so sure how I felt about the fact that she could find her way into my head with just a kiss.

  She’d mind-fucked me with that kiss. Made me feel like I’d just come home from a long day of work when in fact I was about to leave.

  It made me ache for once to hang back. To be somewhere besides work. And as disturbing a feeling as that was, it somehow made me feel good too—in a way I knew I wasn’t supposed to have, because I didn’t allow myself to have this feeling anymore. The feeling of being satisfied. Fulfilled. I’d cut myself off years ago, for good reason.

  But the clarity of that reason was blurring today.

  And try as I might, I couldn’t seem to recapture it.

  “Hey, folks. Car leaves for Fenway in fifteen.” Erica poked her head in to give us the time check. “How is everyone feeling?”

  “Great,” everyone replied, myself included.

  And despite the state of my mind, I actually meant it.

  Because with or without the distractions, I knew I had this negotiation in the bag. I’d been fully familiarized with all the data and financials for months, and I knew well that I was going to leave Boston with a beyond lucrative extension for my client.